


Three Things That Never Happened to Jim Ellison (And One That Did)

by rentgirl2



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rentgirl2/pseuds/rentgirl2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim realizes that his future could hold many possibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Things That Never Happened to Jim Ellison (And One That Did)

~One~

When he'd watched Blair pack for yet another expedition to Columbia, Jim was forced to face his fears and read the handwriting on the wall.

One of these days, one of these days in the very near future, Blair wouldn't be coming back.

The loft would cease to be the place where Blair stored his crap between travels. The room beneath the stairs would no longer be the place where Blair laid his head to sleep when in Cascade and Jim would be relegated from best friend to punch line in a story that started, "See, there was this guy I used to know."

He couldn't let that happen. There had to be a way, he'd reasoned, to make sure that Blair always came back, to make sure that he'd always know how and who Blair was.

The Sentinel thing was dead. It had been for two years. The bout of double pneumonia followed by a nosocomial infection and massive amounts of IV antibiotic therapy that Jim had suffered through might have killed a lesser man. In Jim's case, it had merely rendered him normal.

Blair had stayed on though. He'd gotten his doctorate on something related to the Chopec and had spent the last couple of years working between South America and Rainier. Jim had lived in fear that the day would come when Blair would figure out that he didn't need to come back, that he didn't need Jim.

Racking his brains, he'd gone nearly crazy trying to find a way to entice Blair into never leaving him completely. What, after all, did he possess that a young up-and-coming academic would want?

Then, two months ago, Jim had run into Naomi at Rice's Open Air Emporium by the docks. The answer to his problem had hit Jim like a pick-up truck. Keeping Blair, making certain Blair checked in on a regular basis and showed up for, at the very least, some holidays and special occasions was gloriously simple.

He'd offered to pick Blair up at the Cascade International Airport, hell, he'd practically begged to pick the kid up, but when Blair had called from LAX during a layover, he'd blown off Jim's offer. "Man, it's too much trouble trying to coordinate timetables. I'll just cab it, Jim."

When Jim protested, Blair had said casually, "I've been gone almost seven months, Jim. We can handle an extra half-hour."

Another example of Blair pulling away. More proof positive that Jim had done the right thing.

Watching from the balcony as Blair climbed out of a cab and into the midnight air, Jim longed desperately for a moment of his Sentinel senses. With them, he'd be able to hear Blair's heartbeat and smell his skin from where he stood. Barely able to restrain himself from running down the stairs to meet Blair, Jim stood sentry at the loft door. Finally the door swung open.

There, tanned and travel tired with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, was Blair.

"Hey, Jim." Blair's voice washed warm and welcome over him.

"Good to see you, Chief."

Blair tilted his body, letting the duffle bag tip to the floor just a second before Jim pulled him into a tight hug.

"Glad to see you, too, Jim," Blair chuckled.

"Six months is a long time."

"I was thinking it was too long about five months ago," Blair said, taking a step back.

Gathering his courage, Jim said, "I've got something to tell you."

"Jesus, Jim, after six months I hope you've got lots to tell me," Blair said, walking into the kitchen. "Man, I am starving. They don't feed you for shit on planes any more."

"Listen, Chief," he tried again.

"Is that Naomi's bag?" Blair asked, indicating a huge gold and green tote that he had brought her from Belize five years ago.

"Yeah, that's part of what I wanted to tell you about."

"My mom's here?" Blair started toward his bedroom. "That's so cool. How long has she been here?"

"She's not in your room," Jim said.

"No? Where is she?"

This was not how he'd imagined telling Blair about his great plan. "She's up in my room." He corrected himself. "In our room."

"Our who?" Blair looked a little confused and a lot angry.

"Mine and Naomi's." No, this wasn't how he imagined this going down at all.

"You're screwing my mother?"

"It's not like that, Blair," Jim said, holding up his left hand. "Naomi and I got married a couple of weeks ago."

"You what?" Blair appeared bloodless under his dark tan as he took in the simple silver band on Jim's finger.

"We got married."

"Fuck." Blair voice sounded wet. "Fuck. Why would you do that, Jim?"

"Don't you see, Chief?" Jim hurried to him and lightly clasped his shoulders. "It's perfect. Now we're a family. Now we're connected."

"A family? What, you're my fucking step-daddy now or something?" Blair shrugged away from him. "A family? What the fuck were you and I before?"

"Blair, you're not seeing this right." Jim felt a sick desperation clawing at his guts and throat. "It will work out great. Now you've got a reason to stay and I've got a reason to be around you. The Sentinel thing is dead and now we've got a reason."

To Jim's horror, Blair's eyes filled with tears. "I don't give good goddamn about the Sentinel thing. I haven't since you lost your senses. And I never needed a reason to stay other than you, Jim. I stayed for you."

"Chief?" He watched as Blair swung his duffle back over his shoulder and threw his house key on the table. "Blair?"

"If you wanted to bag a Sandburg, you stupid blind bastard, it should have been me." Blair opened the front door and stepped through it. "If you wanted to spend your life and time on a Sandburg, it should have been me."

Shaken to the core, he made no attempt to stop him.

"It should have been me."

And, Jim realized, as his world came crashing down, it should have been.

 

~Two~

"Wow," Blair said, extending his right hand to Jim. "You look great, man."

"So do you, Chief," he answered, grasping Blair's hand in both of his own and holding tight. "I couldn't believe it when I got your email."

"I didn't think I'd have time to stop in Cascade. We're only stateside for a few days, but then the offer came to give a lecture on Colombian art at Rainer and presto, here I am."

"And it only took you five years," Jim said, successfully schooling the bitterness from his voice.

"Come on, Jim," Blair coaxed. "You know I couldn't stay in Cascade."

Biting down on a thousand angry retorts, Jim nodded and let Blair's hand go. "I know you felt you couldn't stay."

"Man, it wasn't like I was trying to get away from you." The watery winter sun glinted on Blair's short curls. "You were always welcome to come to Columbia."

"I knew that, too." Jim indicated a restaurant across the street. "You ready for lunch? We can catch up over nachos and wings."

Blair rolled his blue eyes dramatically. "Good to see your dietary habits haven't changed."

Patting his still taut abdomen, Jim said, "Hey, if it works."

Laughing, Blair punched him lightly on the arm. "I worried about your health, not your paunch."

"They're both fine, thank you."

"I'm glad," Blair said. "Man, it seems unreal to be here. I missed you, Jim."

"Yeah, a couple of letters now and then aren't the same as having you living in the loft."

"It's way cleaner and quieter, right?"

"Right," he said, wishing he had the nerve to tell Blair the truth, to tell him the loft had been only lonelier.

"Jim," Blair's face was earnest, "I just want to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me back then."

"What I did for you? God, Sandburg, you helped me get my act together. I should be thanking you."

Blair rolled up on the tips of his toes and back. "You probably should be," he said with a cocky smile, "but I still want to tell you how much it meant to me that you stood by me when I had to tell Simon I couldn't go to the academy. You understood why I had to get lost for a while. You supported my decision to take the teaching post in Columbia." He shook his head ruefully. "I don't think I would have had the strength without you. I just felt so fucking tired, so fucking used after all the shit that went down."

Jim silently renewed his vow to never let Blair know what that support had cost him.

"You know," Blair went on, "if you hadn't encouraged me, I wouldn't have taken the job and I wouldn't have run into Maya again. Funny, huh?"

It was funny, Jim supposed, in a knife-in-his-gut-and-twisting-in-his-soul sort of way. "Yeah, funny." The last thing he wanted to discuss was his own part in sending Blair down a path that had ended in Maya Carasco-Sandburg's arms. "You about ready for those nachos?"

"Look, Jim," Blair swept his hands, palms up, across the air between them, "I'm going to have to take a rain check."

"A rain check?"

"Tara, our four year old, is coming down with a cold and Maya's morning sickness has officially become all day sickness. I've got to get back to the hotel and get everything packed. Our flight leaves this evening."

"This evening? I thought... Well, I hoped... " He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this, wouldn't let Blair know, so he coughed then nodded. "I'll admit, I'm disappointed. I'd hoped we'd have more time."

"Man, I had, too. Traveling with a crabby preschooler and a crabbier wife has shot my timetable all to hell. You understand."

"Sure, I understand." It wasn't Sandburg's fault. He couldn't help if his little pit stop was the most important afternoon in five years to Jim.

Blair stuck his hand out again. "Anyway, it really was great to see you, even if it was way too short. Tell everyone at the PD that I said hello and that I'm doing fine."

He ignored Blair's outstretched hand and pulled him into his arms. "Don't stay away another five years, Chief." He savored the opportunity to memorize the weight of Blair against him and to revel in the long ago familiar scent of Blair's skin. His heart ached with a hundred regrets when Blair returned his embrace.

"I never meant to stay away at all," Blair whispered.

"What?"

Blair pull back and smiled, his eyes bright with something that looked like pain to Jim.

"What did you say?" he demanded, although they both knew he'd clearly heard Blair's words.

"It doesn't matter, Jim. Water under the bridge. Missed chances." Blair flashed him a sharp smile. "We pays our dime and we rides the ride, right?" He glanced at his watch. "I've got to take off. Maya and Tara are waiting."

"You take care of yourself, Chief."

"You, too, Jim."

Jim stood watching, long after Blair had disappeared from sight

 

~Three~

"Jesus, Jim," Blair said, cramming an armload of clothing into a duffle bag. "What did you expect? Seriously? That this was going to last forever?"

Jim stood quietly in the doorway of Blair's bedroom, watching as another bunch of flannel disappeared into the bag.

"I suppose," Blair said thoughtfully, "that I should just give this all to charity. It's not like I can't afford new and better now." He moved on to a pile of books balanced precariously on the edge of his desk.

"We had a deal," Jim finally managed.

Blair didn't look up as he began to toss books into a carton. "We sure did. I help you get your senses under control and in return, I get to use the information to write my thesis. You get your life back and I get my PhD. Pretty fucking straight forward." Blair smiled at one of the books that had nearly skittered to the floor. "Man, I forgot I even had this. Sure wouldn't want to leave this baby behind. It's out of print."

"Fucking straight forward?" Jim repeated.

"Well," Blair said, finally looking up from his packing, "you're Detective Got-It-Under-Control and I'm Doctor Blair Sandburg, so I'm thinking we're Even Steven."

"That's all this was to you, Sandburg? A deal that's done? Even fucking Steven? You got yours, I got mine?"

"Basically, yeah." Blair pitched the last few books on the futon. "These aren't worth dragging with me."

"What about our friendship?" he asked, disbelieving. Where, he wondered, was the compassionate guy he'd known for the last four years? Who was this cold stranger wearing Blair's jeans?

"Friendship?" Blair's laugh was biting. "I think that whole friendship concept died when I did, Jim."

Stricken, he said, "God, Blair."

"Seriously, man, friendship with you cut my life expectancy way the fuck down. Sure, you brought me back," he put his hand up when Jim would have interrupted, "but I would rather have skipped the entire out of body experience."

"I guess I didn't understand that you felt that way," Jim said, sliding down the doorframe to sit on the floor.

"You might have," Blair continued, "if you'd ever bothered to ask. Or even listened. Instead," he said, pushing a few more shirts into the duffle bag, "you pushed me away. You ignored everything that happened. You treated me like I didn't mean jack shit to you."

Jim swallowed uncomfortably. Blair was right; he done all that and more. From Sierra Verde to Brad Ventriss, from the first draft of the diss to the Sid and Naomi debacle, he'd let Blair down. "I was afraid, Chief."

"I understand that, Jim, but you know what? I don't care anymore. You're not the only person in the world who has ever been afraid."

"You're not afraid," Jim said with absolute certainty.

"Now that, my friend," Blair sneered, "is where you're 100% wrong. I've been plenty afraid. I was afraid to jump from a plane, afraid to chase criminals, afraid to die, afraid to come back, afraid to grab the brass ring. Don't tell me I'm not afraid, Jim. You just haven't been paying attention."

"I'm sorry, Chief."

"You should be." For a split second, Blair sounded furious, then he grinned and the anger fell from his face. "I did it all for you, buddy. All of it and now," he shrugged, "now it just doesn't matter."

Jim briefly closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door. It was too much to bear. Without saying a word, Blair had taken a great paying job in Colombia. He suspected that had he come home a few hours later, Blair would have left without even saying goodbye.

Jim opened his eyes to watch Blair tape the book carton closed. "I've got a couple of guys coming from Rainier tomorrow to pick up the end of this shit. If there's anything you want, feel free to grab it. Everything else is going to the Salvation Army from whence it came."

"Take me with you," Jim blurted.

"Excuse me?"

"Take me with you."

Blair propped his hip on the corner of the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "And why would I want to do that? For that matter, why the hell would you want me to?"

Taking heart in the fact that Blair appeared curious rather than angry, Jim plunged on. "I love you."

"You know," Blair said, pushing off the desk to scoop up his duffle bag and back pack, "a couple of months ago, Jesus, even a couple of weeks ago, that would have meant the world to me. Now?" he stepped over Jim's long legs and into the living room, "now, it's just words."

"Blair," he said, scrambling to his feet, "can't we talk about it?"

"You just don't get it, do you? Too fucking little, too fucking late, okay?"

"Listen, Blair." He stopped, not sure which words, if any, would lead him to a place at Blair's side rather than being left behind.

"Jim, I've got a plane to catch."

There had be something that would sway Sandburg. There had to some combinations of sounds that would give Jim the second chance he didn't deserve, but so desperately wanted. "I... " He was so many things--sorry, wrong and stupid topping the list. None of those things were the key he needed to unlock the possibility of a happily ever after.

Taking a deep breath, he gave it a shot. "I can't guarantee I won't still spend a lot of my time being afraid, Chief." He moved forward until he was a hairsbreadth from Blair. "But I promise that this time, I'll try to be brave."

Nodding, Blair stepped back. "Okay, then. Grab your passport and let's go."

Jim hesitated as the enormity of what he was about to do crashed down on him. He was going to walk away from his career, his loft, his goddamn life to follow a guy who'd been intent on leaving him behind just a moment ago. He was going to leave a hundred things from bills to bank accounts hanging while he grabbed his passport and ran to a foreign country where he might not even be able to find work. He was leaving friends, an aged father and a newfound brother without knowing when or if he was coming back.

"Oh, Jim," Blair said kindly. "It's okay, man. Fear is in your nature. You can't go against your nature."

He wanted to protest, but as the door clicked shut behind Blair for the last time, Jim knew he was right.

 

~And One That Did~

"She's a terrific lady, Jim," Blair said, looking over the display of engagement rings. "I mean, I had my doubts about you two at first."

"You did?" Jim felt the sharp edge of a headache sliding behind his eyes. "I thought you said you liked Cassie."

"I do, man, I do," Blair hurried to assure him. "How about that one?" He indicated an emerald solitaire.

"It's nice, but I want something more traditional. Something like those." He pointed to a tray of white diamonds. "What did you mean you had your doubts?"

"No offense, Jim, but she was like familiar territory, you know? I mean, here's this woman who takes over your ex-wife's place at the station and now she's going to take over Carolyn's place in your life." He shrugged. "It just seemed weird to me."

"And now it doesn't?"

"And now it doesn't matter what I think," Blair grinned. "You two are happy together and that's what matters. Who knows? In a few years there might be some little Sentinels running around your house."

"Yeah, well, if there are, they won't be available for testing and research."

"Jesus, Jim. I was just kidding. Fucking lighten up already."

"Sorry, Chief. I didn't sleep last night."

Blair's irritation was replaced with concern. "Are you sick? Is it your senses?"

"I'm fine. I just had a bunch of bizarre dreams."

"Blue jungles and black jaguars?"

"Nah, nothing like that," but he wondered if the bits and pieces he remembered were just as prophetic.

"How about these?" Blair asked. "They're traditional stones in freeform style settings."

"You a jewelry expert now?"

"As a matter of fact... "

"Never mind, Sandburg." He looked at the display and dismissed it. He wanted traditional, completely traditional. Absolutely normal engagement ring, absolutely normal wife living in absolutely normal neighborhood. "Sandburg, do you think I'm brave?"

"Well," Blair chuckled, "you eat at Wonderburger and you drive on the interstate. That's pretty brave." He sobered at the pained look on Jim's face. "You're a cop, you were a soldier. Fuck, Jim, you're a Sentinel. You're brave."

"Not that kind of brave." He wondered how he could say this without sounding like a jackass. "Never mind."

"Whatever." Blair went back to engagement ring browsing.

"Sandburg," he said, when he saw that Blair wasn't going to try and drag it out of him, "do you ever think about the future?"

"All the time, man."

"I mean, what's going to happen to you specifically. You know, what could happen next? Like what would happen if you turned left instead of turning right? Or if you said no instead of yes?"

"Jim," Blair looked from the display, "if you're hinting about me moving out of the loft, I've got it covered. I was going to tell you once all the details were hammered out, but I've been offered a position at a university in Columbia."

"Columbia?" Bits of last night's dreams began to swirl and collide in his skull. Vaguely uncomfortable images of Blair, Maya, and Naomi skirted just beyond his grasp and then were gone.

"Yeah," Blair went on, "there's an opening in their anthropology department that sounds like a great fit for me. The money is almost obscene. Well, at least in comparison to the peanuts that Rainier feeds me. And there's a chance to head up some expeditions that would be probably be closed to me otherwise."

"God, Chief," he broke in. "Columbia? You couldn't find something in goddamn China?"

"China? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jim glanced about. The other customers appeared a little too interested in their discussion.

Lovers' quarrel, he heard a man whisper snidely. It's not, Jim wanted to shout. We're just normal guys, completely normal guys about to have a regular, traditional screaming match about regular, old-fashioned bullshit. "Let's take this elsewhere," he said, leading Sandburg through the Saturday afternoon mall crowd.

"I thought we were going to pick out Cassie's engagement ring."

"So did I," Jim muttered, "but I was full of shit."

They said nothing else until they were buckled into the truck and heading toward the beach.

"Jim?"

"Um?"

"I was kind of hoping that you'd be, like, happy for me."

"Maybe I'm too damn selfish to be happy for you." Jim pulled into the nearly empty parking strip. A rainy December afternoon wasn't enticing too many people to venture out to the beach.

"You don't want me to be offered a great job?"

"I do want you to be offered a great job, Sandburg. I just don't want you to be living thousands of miles away. I don't want everything to change."

"Jim," Blair said, as he unlatched his seatbelt and turned his body toward him. "Once you and Cassie get engaged everything is going to change. That's how it's supposed to be, you know? It's the natural way. 'For a man shall cleave unto to his wife, forsaking all others.'"

"Traditional."

"Well, Biblical, actually, but yeah."

"So, the brass ring I'm supposed to grab is the wife, the 2.5 kids, the picket fucking fence because it's the traditional, natural thing?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, exactly."

"What about you, Sandburg?" Jim asked, staring out the rain splattered windshield. The sky, the ocean, the sand, even the flock of hovering birds were all shades of gray.

"Me? I'm not really a traditional kind of guy. But," he added quietly, "I don't exactly want to be alone all my life, either."

"Is that how you see it, Chief?" Jim shifted on the bench seat so he was facing Blair. "That you're alone?"

"Now?" Blair seemed surprised by the question. "Of course not. I've got-" He stopped suddenly, as though realizing how much he'd been about to reveal.

"Who, Blair?" Jim said softly. "Who have you got now?"

Blair lowered his eyes. "You."

He cupped Blair's chin with his hand and tilted his face up until their eyes met. "And now I'm going to ask Cassie to marry me, to do the normal thing and start up a regular guy life."

"That's the plan."

"And you don't think there's a place in my traditional, cleaving life for you?"

Something hot flared in Blair's eyes and he attempted to look away. Jim firmed his hand and kept Blair facing him. "Chief? Is that what you think?"

"Maybe I don't want that, okay?" He sounded absolutely furious. "Maybe I don't want you to carve a spot for me in your fucking middle-class life. Maybe I want more. Maybe I deserve more."

It was time, Jim knew, to be brave, to admit that he wasn't a traditional guy by anyone's definition. He was a Sentinel. He had visions. He was in love with Blair. He could continue to try to live the normal, regular guy life. He'd tried in the past and only succeeded in hurting himself and Carolyn. He wanted more. He deserved more.

"You're right," Jim agreed then leaned forward and sealed his mouth to Blair's. With a sigh of relief, they melted into each other and clung tight.

"What about Cassie?" Blair asked when Jim finally released him.

"She's a little too run-of-the-mill for me, Chief." He kissed Blair again, just because he could.

"Yeah, I'm thinking you need someone a little more outside the box."

"Like maybe some professor at a Colombian university? A couple of years of tropical heat and Spanish and carrying equipment through the jungle?"

Blair's smile lit up the gray, salty air around them. "You mean that?"

"I do," Jim promised.

 

end


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